


Eyes Do See

by LMX



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Battlefield, Blindness, Community: avengerkink, F/M, Gen, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMX/pseuds/LMX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the knowledge that Asguard were facing battle for the defence of Earth, it only seemed right that they lend a hand, really. But it was starting to look like they were going to die here.</p>
<p>When you accept that you're fighting to the death, your perception on a lot of things changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Do See

**Author's Note:**

> Original Avengerskink prompt: [here](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/16524.html?thread=36126092#t36126092)

If this had seemed like a bad idea when they first conceived it, Clint knew that was probably because it was a bad idea then, and continued to be. At some point this was going to go down in history as the mother of all bad ideas. Or maybe it wouldn't. If they didn't win here, today, nothing was going down in history ever again. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Thing was, they were here - their mostly human, very squishy, only marginally armed troupe of supposed superheroes - fighting against giants and aliens and alongside those humans once considered gods. Perhaps Thor and Hulk could claim to suit the requirements. The rest of them... well they were mostly here because they didn't have anywhere else to be.

They were lucky, in a sense, that Thor had asked Asguard's sentry to spare a little of his attention for his second home. Lucky too, that Odin had agreed to his son's demands that they intervene when Heimdall told them that Earth was being targeted by Thanos in revenge for the fall of the Chitauri. Only now it was Asguard being stormed by Frost Giants and the remnants of the Chitauri race, and the great city's defences weren't really what the Avenger's had been expecting from such a war-faring people.

With the knowledge that Asguard were facing battle for the defence of Earth, it only seemed right that they lend a hand, really. Like he said, bad idea.

It was starting to look like they were going to die here. They had been tasked with defending Heimdall - the primary source of intelligence for the battle - in the observatory. The Avengers and Thor and - as if to add insult to injury - Loki; all of them crammed into the small space that had seemed ridiculous at first, a recipe for friendly fire. But then they'd started fighting and the observatory had opened up into a huge space like a freaking TARDIS.

Heimdall's command was to hold position in the centre, keep his eyes open and keep feeding information back to the command post in the citadel, Hawkeye had started off covering one side of the building from a high perch, Iron Man hovering to cover the other as they were swarmed by blue giants. The Chitauri were facing off against the battle hoards defending the city walls, but the observatory was out of the main walls and their defences.

Every frost giant that made it through their snipers was taken down by the Black Widow and Captain America within the observatory before they could reach their target. Hulk, Thor, Loki and the Warriors Three were making wide sweeps outside the walls, and the sounds of Hulk smashing and Thor's hammer and the swords and shields were echoing in the small/big space oddly. Like even sound didn't know what to make of the swollen observatory.

It really had worked well for a little while, but they were human and they were tiring of the ceaseless assault. They weren't made for this kind of battlefield. Hulk's screams were getting more and more frustrated, Iron Man was forced to take a perch to extend the power of his suit and Hawkeye was running low on ammunition.

The offensive team surged back into the observatory, clustered around one of the Warrior's three who was holding a deep wound in their side. The observatory was suddenly surging with frost giants, and Clint didn't have time to try and remember the names of Thor's three friends - his entire focus taken up with the enemies outside. He trusted the inside and his own defence to the allies, to his friends as they were overwhelmed, and didn't let himself look back as another quiver was dropped at his side. Didn't let himself look back when Natasha cried out, when she gave up physical combat for her gun.

They were dying here. It didn't really matter who went first. He breathed through the next shot and willed himself to believe that. They were going to die here. They just had to make sure there wasn't enough of an army to take the fight on to Earth.

Pain struck suddenly and sharply, in concert with two gunshots that felt like they'd hit him - but it was a hand wrapped around him - a huge, freezing cold hand that had grabbed his exposed arm and another that had wrapped across his face, covering his eyes to stop him aiming.

He released the arrow he had on his bowstring, hearing the explosion in the distance as he was thrown to the floor from his perch, a frost giant corpse falling heavily beside him and breathing its last cold breath. His arm was on fire, and his face was numb. Natasha was a gasping breath beside him, pulling him upright and pushing a gun into his hand. She propped him in a corner, aimed his gun for him, whispered; 'Don't stop shooting' and disappeared back into the hoards.

He couldn't open his eyes, his eyelids frost-bitten and heavy, and he took her aim with the trust he would have given anything she'd told him. Steve cried out and Clint started shooting, balancing the gun with his injured arm. He ran out of ammunition twice, and both times Natasha was there, the first time reloading for him, the second thrusting the clip into his hand. He ignored the tacky feel of blood on the clip as he reloaded. They were going to die here. There wasn't much he could do about that now.

Something that felt like a spear of ice plunged through his shoulder and he switched hands with the gun, ignoring the ice-burn handprint on his upper arm as he re-aimed unerringly back to the position Natasha had given him and kept shooting. Hulk crashed closer and then further away, the walls juddered with impacts of bodies and weapons, the noise reached a tumult and then slowly faded away. Clint was sitting on the floor and he didn't remember getting them from standing. He adjusted his aim and kept shooting.

At some point, the world faded away.

-

He woke to Natasha's hand on his wrist, and his hand clenched spasmodically around the place a gun should have been.

"Hush," she hissed. "It's over." Her voice was shaky, hoarse. She was hurt, but Clint couldn't open his eyes to find out where. He concentrated, and the next attempt drew a pained scream from him as his eyelids threatened to shred apart at the demand. "Stop, stop!" Natasha was saying when he could hear through the pain, her hands firm on the sides of his face, away from the burning skin. "Don't try to open your eyes, you idiot." There was something affectionate in her voice, and a sadness that he couldn't place.

"Tasha?" he asked. "What..."

"There's something you need to..." she started, but stopped as the air moved around them and someone else settled in close.

"Hawk-eye'd one," Thor said, and the address had never seemed more inappropriate. "Heimdall has fallen, and he fears he is not much longer for this realm. The Valkyrie call him. His sight is something treasured among our people, as yours was to your own."

Was. Clint choked on his fear, and Natasha's hand shifting to his shoulder only felt like a noose sneaking towards his neck.

"What can I do?" he said, knowing this was not a casual conversation. His shoulder burned hot/cold and he wondered if anyone had taken the ice-spike out yet. That was going to hurt.

"Clint," Steve's voice, standing a little apart from the others. He was suddenly desperate to hear everyone's voice. To know everyone had made it. He wanted to *see* goddamnit. "They want you to take over. They want you to stay here."

He choked down a slightly hysterical laugh. "I'm not much with the impressive vision right now, Thor. And I'm not sure you want me guarding your castle."

"Archer," The voice that spoke was deep and rich, and seemed to rumble in his chest. He'd not spoken to Heimdall before this had all started, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt who was speaking. "For this I would give you my sight. I would gift this to you before I fade."

Thor's breath hitched, and Clint remembered him speaking of Heimdall as a presence throughout his life. This was an old friend he was losing. Who was going to die for the sake of protecting Earth.

"This is a heavy burden I ask of you." Heimdall continued, and Clint thought he might be able to hear the pain in that penetrating voice. "You would be tied to this place, this task, for much longer than the years you have already lived. But do not think the task worthless. You will see so much that has never be seen. Be so much more than an observer." There was an odd sound like armour scraping against armour, and another voice hissed; "Settle, Heimdall, please. Preserve your strength."

"Do not feel forced," Thor said, strain evident in his voice, "I beg of you. If you refuse you will receive no ill will. We will do what we can for your eyes."

Clint swallowed, hard. His sight - a sight much better than his own, in fact - for his life on Earth. His friends and his enemies and the comforts of home. Natasha's hand tightened around his wrist. "Did everyone make it?" he asked, hearing the fear in his voice and hating himself for showing such vulnerability in front of Tasha.

"Banner's still unconscious," she answered. "Tony's suit is pretty torn up, but he's being pissy about it, so he's alright. There are people taking care of Fandral now. We're going to be okay, Clint."

"Huh," Clint mused, "I honestly didn't think we were getting out of this one."

And that was it, wasn't it. He'd accepted that this was where he was going to die. All of them on Asguard, so far from home, putting themselves on the line with the Asguardians for the sake of Earth.

"Alright," he nodded, regretting it immediately as his injuries pulled and pain sharpened. "Alright, I'm going to stay here."

"Thank you," Thor said softly, stepping away. "Thank you my friend."

Natasha hissed in a sharp breath, "Clint, you don't have to..."

"Tasha," he interrupted, turning his hand so he could take hold of her wrist. "I'm still going to be able to watch your back."

"That's not..." she started again, but didn't finish. Another pair of hands laid on him, and filled him with a suffusing warmth.

"This is okay, Tasha," he managed, before the warmth dragged him down.

-

Clint had expected boredom, standing in a room alone just watching as the world went by outside the doors of his self-imposed isolation. His new eyes, though... Standing at the point where the nine realms split he could see... everything.

It was like ecstasy - the metaphyscial and the chemical kind - tracking how far he could follow something, seeing how a tiny turn of his head gave him a different angle on a situation, looking through clouds and beneath mountains.

For a long time, he resisted the urge to watch Earth. He worried he wasn't performing his job correctly - not defending this, his new realm. But some days Thor came to sit with him and asked him to describe what was happening with their friends. How Tasha was healing, how the new Iron Man suit was performing. How Thor's girlfriend was. He found himself tallying the number of times Jane Foster glanced wistfully up into the sky, reporting each number to Thor when he came.

He missed them. Of course he missed them. But he could see them, like a distant TV-show. Watching as they brought on new recruits, hoping never to leave the Earth so defenceless again. Seeing them train and banter and watch movies and fight.

Some days were agonising, as Banner had nightmares that turned into an inadvertent stampeding attack on the Tower; as Steve took a gunshot wound to the gut and was forced to crawl back to the rendezvous point; as Natasha lay bleeding - talking to him as if she knew he could read the words on her lips, reassuring him it was alright, she knew he couldn't reach her from there and he shouldn't blame himself. Each time, rescue followed, everyone escaped with their lives, each time was agonising in his inability to act.

But never boring. And some days. Some days were wonderful.

Today Thor is stood breathless at his side as he describes the scene; Tasha exhausted and flushed, her new husband holding her hand far more delicately than she is his, and in the doctor's arms something tiny and red and beautiful. A new beginning, and Clint is so glad he got to see it.


End file.
